


Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

by apple_pi



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: mcsmooch, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-12
Updated: 2010-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 04:51:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's hard, now, to remember what it was like for those first six years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

Sometimes it's hard, now, to remember what it was like for those first six years. When John's throwing his socks at the laundry hamper (where they'll land on Rodney's t-shirt, teetering atop the spilling-over basket), or when he taps his radio to ask Rodney if he remembered to pick up soap at the commissary, or when he wakes up and shoves Rodney onto his side (because he does, too, snore when he sleeps on his back) – it's hard to remember, then, what it was like to hide. What it was like before DADT was repealed, when he didn't talk about wanting what he couldn't (he'd told himself) have.

Today John finds Rodney in the control room, despite the fact that the new tech – Uhl? Ullman? something – is totally trained, and Rodney should be back in his lab, not hovering over her and watching as she fine-tunes the new comm system.

"Hey," he says.

Rodney straightens. "Hey, what? Aren't you supposed to be at work?" he asks.

John rolls his eyes, grabs his sleeve and pulls him away from Uhl. (He thinks it's Uhl.) "Aren't _you_ supposed to be at work?" he mocks gently. Rodney narrows his eyes, opens his mouth to snap back a reply; closes it and glares (a little). John smirks. "C'mon, let's go get lunch."

"It's too early," Rodney replies. "If I go eat now, the afternoon is too long."

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," John says, low and sweet, smiling at Rodney, teasing.

Rodney, who knows perfectly well that _John_ knows perfectly well how much Rodney chafed at his restricted hours when they were put into place, less than a year ago, scowls a little harder. "We can't all have the blood pressure of a 30-year-old," he says, but there's no bite in it. Working eight-hour days has been good for both he and John, and he knows it.

"Noon, then." John tips his head to the side. "Okay?"

"Okay." Rodney starts to step away, saying, "Just meet me in the mess hall. I'm going down to check up on Radek and June, since you've spoiled my fun here." He reverses himself and turns back to John, leaning close.

John kisses his cheek lightly, turns his head. Rodney presses a fast, absent kiss to his cheek – nearly his chin, his mind is already moving forward – and steps away, toward the east transporter.

John smiles to himself and goes west, thinking about their lunch, dinner, laundry tonight – he's out of socks, except for the thin black ones that go with his dress shoes – and years of absent-minded and intent kisses in his future.


End file.
